


Jumped Out a Window

by wheel_pen



Series: Viridian Trip [5]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fish out of Water, Gen, Imprinting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-13
Updated: 2013-04-13
Packaged: 2017-12-08 10:03:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wheel_pen/pseuds/wheel_pen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trip rescues Jon from captivity, demonstrating amazing physical prowess and a disdain for his own well-being.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jumped Out a Window

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Viridians appear human, but are actually aliens who imprint on other people (Viridian or otherwise) and form a bond with them. They also live their entire life cycle in about six Earth years.
> 
> 2\. In each series, a different character is a Viridian, who was raised by mean Klingons on an outpost. An Enterprise crewmember is captured by the Klingons and they inadvertently form a bond with the Viridian, who helps them escape. Then they return to rescue the Viridian and bring them aboard the Enterprise. The Viridian homeworld is contacted and the Enterprise crew learn the Viridian will most likely die if they are sent away. So they end up staying on the Enterprise, and the crewmember has to adjust.
> 
> 3\. The bad words are censored. That’s just how I do things.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this AU. I own nothing and appreciate the chance to play in this universe.

"This part of the compound is heavily shielded," Malcolm was saying, gesturing to a section of a building on the computer screen. "Our sensors can't penetrate it. Neither can the transporters. That _must_ be where he's being held."

T'Pol studied the map. "Would a handheld scanner be able to function within their dampening system?"

Malcolm shook his head. "No way to tell, until we got there. And the shielded area is so large, if we don't find him quickly enough, we'll soon find ourselves surrounded by the guard."

Given the surface-to-orbit firepower already displayed by this compound, T'Pol didn't need to point out that a stealth rescue would be vastly preferable. Not to mention more likely to succeed. "Then you will have to find him quickly," she concluded. Lt. Reed looked her in the eye and nodded once, understanding. "Take Trip with you," the First Officer added as Reed started to turn away. "He may be of some assistance."

Five of them beamed down to a secluded hallway just outside the shielded area—Lt. Reed, Trip, and three MACOs. Trip was trying to run off before he'd even fully materialized and Reed had to grab his arm and jerk him back against the wall. "This way!" Trip hissed angrily, tugging at Reed's grip. The Tactical Officer gave him a poisonous look, reminding the young man what T'Pol had said about obeying Reed's commands. Then he nodded at the MACOs, who positioned themselves carefully down the hall, scouting for any witnesses. Seeing none, they gave the signal to Reed, who loosened his grip on Trip just slightly.

Reed felt like he had a particularly insistent dog on a leash as Trip dragged him down the corridor, drawn unerringly through the maze-like halls. At least, he _acted_ as though he were certain about his destination. It was all the MACOs could do to stay ahead of them, and more than once all five had to duck back at the last moment to avoid being seen. Reed rolled his eyes as he reflected that he wouldn't even have the chance to report to T'Pol whether the hand scanners _would_ have worked.

Finally they stopped around a corner about ten meters down from a heavy-looking metal door. "He's in there!" Trip told Malcolm, then started for it.

Reed shoved him back against the wall, behind a metal brace, then took another look himself. "Four guards, lightly armed," he signaled to the MACOs on the opposite wall. "Perhaps you missed them," he whispered to Trip sarcastically. Weapons fire would only attract attention and might give at least one guard the opportunity to sound the alarm, Malcolm decided quickly. A sneak attack with hand-to-hand combat would be their best bet. "Stay back," he ordered Trip firmly, as he and the MACOs began to creep forward, sticking close to the duct work on the walls. Four against four should be easy enough—

In a blur of motion Trip shot past Malcolm and jumped the nearest guard. If the Tactical Officer had had time to think he would have longed to stun Trip with a phase pistol himself just to keep him out of the way. Before Malcolm could even stand up and join the fray, however, the first guard was already down, while his companions—as equally stunned as Reed and the MACOs—stood staring. Trip punched the next guard in the face, jabbed the third in the stomach with his own weapon, then held on to it for balance as he gave the fourth a roundhouse kick. Trip ripped the weapon from the guard at the shoulder holster and proceeded to use it as a blunt instrument, along with the rest of his body. Within seconds the four guards lay senseless in the hallway, with Reed and the MACOs left out of the fight completely.

"Right then," Reed decided, moving on. "Is he in there?"

Trip was already climbing on the one of the prone guard's bodies to see in the barred window on the door. "Captain?" he whispered as loudly as he dared.

A groan answered him. "Trip?" The young man strained to see into the dim light of the cell. Off to the side a familiar figure turned his head towards the door but made no effort to move otherwise. "What took you so long?" Archer asked wryly, following the comment with a painful cough.

"He's in there," Trip confirmed, dropping back to the floor of the hallway. "He doesn't look too good."

Reed had finally whipped out the hand scanner. It did, in fact, work, at least at this limited range. But he was scanning the door anyway, not looking for human biosigns. "Duranium, about six centimeters thick," he concluded. They could cut through it with phase pistols, but it would take at least four minutes—time they might not have, if anyone else walked past the hallway. A small explosive charge would be much faster but again, not very stealthy—and they would need all the time they could get to make their escape.

The assessment passed through Malcolm's mind in only a couple of seconds and he was about to signal the MACOs to stand guard while he readied his phase pistol. "Sir!" Corporal Bevins warned him suddenly, yanking Reed away from the door. Trip crashed into it, shoulder first, and for an instant Malcolm thought he'd finally gone round the bend, until the door miraculously gave way and in fact went flying to the other side of the cell with a large dent in it.

Trip was already up and scrambling to the side. "Captain!" Carefully he got his arm under Archer's and helped him stand.

"Sorry, can't be of much assistance," the Captain gasped. His face was swollen and dark with bruises and dried blood and he could just barely get his feet underneath himself.

"It's okay, Captain, I've got you," Trip assured him. Corporal Bevins took the Captain's other arm as Trip turned to Malcolm and asked impatiently, "Okay, how do we get out of here?"

Well, he'd been wondering what they were even there for, Reed decided sardonically, as he and the other two MACOs took point on the route back to the edge of the shielded section. He knew _Enterprise_ was actively scanning for their biosigns and would beam them up the moment they were spotted. Their luck held until they were just a few meters away from the beam-in point, when Reed spotted a group of half a dozen guards just about to unknowingly cut them off. Now they _were_ outnumbered, and had the Captain to look after, but they were so close. If they opened fire _now_ , the guards could hold their position and prevent them from ever getting outside the shielding. Perhaps he could risk a stun grenade—

"Take him," Trip said suddenly, looping Archer's arm over Malcolm's shoulders.

"What the—Trip!" The young man had already taken off, barreling through the group of guards and drawing them away from the edge of the shielding. He'd taken four, yes, but that _had_ to be just luck, no way could he take six. But then again, Reed supposed, he didn't _have_ to take them, he just had to get them far enough away. "Come on!" he ordered the MACOs and they made a run for it, all but carrying Archer. They skidded to a stop just outside the shielded area and Reed dug desperately for his communicator. " _Enterprise_ , beam up the Captain but not—" Too late, he was already feeling the slightly disquieting tingle that indicated transporting.

They materialized on the transporter pad, again five, but not the same five who had gone down. Phlox and his assistants immediately took the Captain and carted him to Sickbay. "Send me back," Reed ordered, jumping back onto the pad.

"No," T'Pol countered, stopping the transporter operator.

Reed stared at her. "Trip's still down there!"

"They've activated the alarm," the Vulcan informed him shortly. "The whole building's shielded now."

"Then put me and the MACOs outside the building," he told her, knowing how desperate he sounded.

"You were on the fifth floor," T'Pol shot back. "You would never get up to him in time."

"We can't just leave him!" Painfully annoying or not, Trip _had_ saved the Captain's life, not to mention preventing Reed and the MACOs from getting so much as a paper cut on this mission. The next time he saw Trip, Reed was going to make sure he understood _exactly_ how stupid that last part was. Assuming there _was_ a next time.

"We won't," the First Officer told him grimly. "If you see his biosign, transport him _immediately_ , don't wait," she added to the transporter operator.

" _Commander,_ " Hoshi's voice floated urgently over the intercom. " _The governor is hailing us. He doesn't sound pleased._ "

"On my way," T'Pol replied. She gave Malcolm a significant look and the two of them hurried to the Bridge.

Delgado, the transporter operator, stared fixedly at the sensor array next to the control panel, hand paused over the first switch she'd need to throw to initiate transport. Trip was a little weird, yes, and the rumors that flew among the lower decks about him and the Captain were even weirder, but he'd never been anything but friendly to her. Not that she wouldn't have obeyed the First Officer's orders even if she _didn't_ like him, of course, but in any case she was hoping desperately that the light would flash to indicate he had somehow gotten outside the shield.

She waited. And waited. Delgado didn't know how long she'd waited, since she refused to take her eyes off the sensor to check the chronometer, but she hadn't heard any new orders from the Bridge and she hadn't felt the ship go to warp—The light flashed. Delgado threw the first switch and worked the rest of the controls just like Chief Marcus had taught her, until a ball of sparkles began to form on the transporter pad. Then she hit the intercom to the Bridge. "I've got him!" she announced. "He's coming in now!"

Trip materialized mid-air, arms curved around his head protectively, and thumped a painful-looking three feet to the floor of the pad. Shards of what appeared to be glass that had been transported with him rained down around him with a high-pitched tinkle. " _Do you have Trip?_ " T'Pol demanded from the Bridge.

"Yes, ma'am!" Delgado assured her happily as Trip shook the glass off himself and scrambled to his feet. She felt the hum of the ship as it changed direction, no doubt breaking orbit as fast as Ensign Mayweather could make it. Delgado was about to tell Trip she was glad to see him, or some other comment on the success of the mission, but he ran past without even seeing her.

" _Bridge to Trip_ ," T'Pol called over the intercom, and Delgado hit the button instead.

"He took off, Commander," she reported. "I think he's going to Sickbay." That's where _she_ would want to go, anyway, to check on the Captain.

Half a dozen crewmembers stared at Trip as he raced down the halls, but he barely noticed them. There was only one destination, one thing, on his mind and it was all he could do to remember to open the Sickbay doors properly instead of bursting through them. Phlox did a double take when he saw who had entered—and what state he was in. There was no need to summon the young man closer, however, because in an instant he was practically on top of the doctor, trying to reach Archer on the biobed.

"Captain! How is he?" he demanded of Phlox.

"I will be able to treat him much more easily if you would _back up_ and sit here," the doctor advised, avoiding a direct answer. He signaled for one of the nurses to start attending to Trip's injuries, which appeared numerous even _without_ a scan of his insides.

"How's the Captain?" another voice asked, and Phlox nearly rolled his eyes. How was he supposed to get anyone treated when people kept asking him how the treatment was going? Since _this_ voice came from the First Officer and acting Captain, however, he tried to show a little more patience.

"Fair amount of trauma, internal bleeding, dehydration," Phlox reported, gazing at the information streaming across the panel above Archer's bed. "Nothing that can't be fixed in a few days."

"I'll have to… try harder next time," Archer replied, unexpectedly. "Make a real challenge for you."

"Captain, you need to rest," T'Pol informed him unnecessarily as Phlox busied himself with the equipment. "We've broken orbit and are leaving the system. Everything is under control."

Archer nodded, closing his eyes. "Where's Trip?" he asked, just when T'Pol thought maybe he was going to take her advice.

"I'm right here, Captain," the young man answered, propelling himself off the biobed despite the two nurses in his way who were attempting to treat him. He touched Archer's arm lightly, hoping he wasn't putting additional pressure on an injury.

Archer strained to open his eyes and look up, just a little. "You look terrible," he concluded. "You should… go to Sickbay."

"Yes, sir, I will," Trip assured him.

Phlox gave T'Pol a significant look and she got the young man's attention, drawing him away from the Captain's bed so the doctor could work. "Trip, how did you get outside the shielding?" she queried.

"Oh, I jumped out a window," he replied distractedly, his eyes darting back to Archer.

That would explain all the cuts on his face and hands. "You must have timed your jump very carefully," T'Pol continued, turning his back to the Captain, "to be certain we would transport you before you hit the ground."

Trip seemed to focus on her for the first time as his breathing slowed a little. "Oh. I hadn't thought of that," he admitted. "I guess that _was_ kind of a long way down, wasn't it?"

"Perhaps you should sit down," T'Pol suggested forcefully, maneuvering Trip backwards to another bed as she saw the blood start to drain from his face. Phlox had mentioned the unusual adrenaline-like surge that accompanied Trip's physical activity in defense of the Captain—and how once the crisis was over, the compound dissipated just as rapidly. The Vulcan barely got him onto the bed before he passed out cold.


End file.
